With a Little Help from My Friends
by ILoveBeatleGeorge
Summary: This is a Harry Potter and The Beatles crossover. Please Read and Review. The Beatles have broken up 1974 , but what happens when they're thrown back together, in their alma mater no less! There is a bit of romance. REREAD, REWRITE CHAPTER 3 REPOSTED! I didn't make image
1. The Letters

_**AN: I decided to re-write this story because I truly no longer enjoy play format and feel that, if kept that way, this story won't ever be finished. So for any old readers, please re-read starting here and for any new readers, I guarantee you its better now. Anyway I still own neither Harry Potter nor The Beatles though I strongly wish I did. So here we go again, I suppose.**_

**Chapter One: The Letters**

A man was sitting at a Victorian-era table with a pen in his right hand and his face in his left. The man had big, dark brown eyes and curly, shaggy hair to match; he was also currently sporting a moustache that barely tickled the top of his lips. As he stared off into space he slowly brought the pen to his lips, before realizing what he was doing and throwing the pen down.

The pen was now residing on the floor; the man had no use for it anymore, its place in his hand replaced by a cigarette. The man had a tendency to chain smoke when his mind took over, something he tried to avoid but his mind wouldn't get off _them. _First off, there was his estranged wife, Patti, who was now with his best friend, Eric. While this didn't bother the man too much, as he was sure he deserved it, what he had done after she left was haunting him. This _Bad Thing_ was the second thing that refused to dislodge itself from his thoughts, Maureen, his friend's wife, whom he had cheated with after Patti left with Eric just last month. While his friend, Richard his name was, hadn't seemed mad the man knew all too well how Richard was feeling on the inside and he regretted acting on impulse and doing such a thing. The third thing on his mind was one that he hadn't thought off since his manager, Brian, had died; his first true love. He began to wonder what she was up to and if she could ever take him back even after all the hurt, grief, and trouble he had caused since their separation; he doubted she would. The last thing on his mind was the horrible thing that he must not go back to, no matter how loud it called his name; the drugs. He heard them every night calling, _"George…. George… We'll take the pain away!"_, but he knew he mustn't go back to those evil things that had caused so much damage in the lives of those he had known, loved, and even been. So he ignored them, using his cigarettes as a poor substitute. Little did he know that in the next few months he would be granted the best "pick-me-up" of all, love.

* * *

A much older man was sitting alone at an even older table gazing into, what appeared to be, a crystal ball. This man was not one to trust the tricky dealings of fortune telling but, as he put it, he was "dealing with an illness and decided to take a peek." so there he was. The old man was displeased with what he saw through his half-moon spectacles so he decided to take matters into his own hands, and tell fate, quite simply, to "stuff it".

To change fate in such a way the old man decided that he must first contact those whose fates he was changing. To do so he called over the finest owls that resided at Hogwarts, the school he was employed at, and attached a letter to each of them. In each letter he gave the same reason for the young men to re-enter their alma mater, hoping that their love of music would be enough to bring them back, and gave them instructions to follow if they were to accept, or even decline. He then set the owls off, hoping only for the best results while expecting the very worst.

* * *

Miles away, in the distant land of America; a couple was sitting down to breakfast in a large Manhattan apartment. The man had long brown hair, which was untidily pulled back into a ponytail, accompanied by small brown eyes hidden by a pair of small, round spectacles. The woman was clearly Asian with long, black hair, which didn't seem very well kept, and slanted, small dark eyes. They were discussing the prospects of having children, each possessing one from previous marriages but never having one together as each time they had gotten close it had resulted in miscarriage.

Their conversation was interrupted as an owl flew into the apartment dropping a letter on the table, and only nearly missing the man's coffee in the process. Both adults stopped speaking and turned their heads towards the owl.

The man opened his mouth first, looking to the bird, the letter, and finally to his wife before again closing his mouth. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen an owl carrying mail before, his childhood had been full of it, but he hadn't expected one to bring mail to him ever again, not since he had graduated.

His wife, on the other hand, was very inexperienced with such occurrences, having been raised away from the world in which her husband grew up in, and almost fell off of her seat when the bird entered their home. She also opened her mouth to speak, once her husband's mouth was closed, but had even less success than he.

After a minute of staring the man summoned enough courage to take the letter from the table and look at it. Once he finished reading he looked at his wife with the upmost glee in his face before handing the letter to her. She took the parchment from him and also skimmed the paper before looking back up to her husband with a questioning look on her face.

"What?" he asked her without the sheepish grin leaving his face. Without letting her answer his question he continued, "I was hoping you'd say I could go, it seems like fun, plus old Dumbledore said that you were welcome as well."

She looked back up to her husband and started, with a sigh, "I suppose if you want to go we can, but I prefer it here, in New York, to England."

"Yes, I know, darling. But I truly would enjoy it and it is going to be Julian's first year, I wouldn't mind witnessing that."

"Okay, John, we can go so you could play music for the children at your old school, but it's only because I love you."

"Thank you, Yoko. Now let's go and get packed before catching the next plane out of here, I want to make it to London on time to catch the train!"

The man pecked his wife on the cheek before running to their bedroom and grabbing the nicest stationary the couple owned. He took out a ballpoint pen and sat at the desk that was sitting at the far side of their room. Taking the pen he wrote a long reply to his ex-headmaster explaining that he would definitely be coming to his alma mater to perform. He also added that he and Yoko were flying in on the next flight and planned to take the student train to the school on September 1. After sending the letter off with the owl John and Yoko began to pack for what would surely become an extraordinary adventure.

* * *

In London a man was sitting with a woman and three young girls; ages ranging from about three to twelve. The man had dark hair with almond shaped hazel eyes while the woman, who appeared to be his wife, had blond hair and blue eyes and a hand resting on her husband's leg. The oldest girl, aged about twelve or eleven, had long straight blond hair and green eyes. The next youngest girl, about five years old, had wavy brown hair and brown eyes that were shaped like her father's. The youngest girl, who was at the most three years of age, had shoulder-length blond hair and blue eyes. The girls were engaged in an intense game of house, in which the younger two were the "babies" and their older sister was the "single-mommy", while their parents had a whispered conversation about an old friend and his child.

"But Linda" the man started, "why can't John take Julian to the station if Cyn's mum is in the hospital?"

"Oh I don't know, Paul, maybe because he lives in America?" his wife answered with impatience. "Anyway we're already going, so it's no big deal if we have to bring Jules."

"I suppose not," the man answered before looking up with a confused look on his face. "Wait, we're already going? Why?"

The eldest girl looked up when her dad said this with a look of contempt on her face.

"What?" he said looking down at his daughter. "Heather, what is it?"

"Dad," she sighed, "its Julian and my first year."

"First year? Where?"

"Hogwarts, dad, you know; your alma mater!"

"Oh yeah, forgot sorry," he said, before turning back to his wife. "Linda, I suppose we can take Julian to the train, since we actually are already going. It just bugs me that John does nothing for that boy; I don't think he even gives Cynthia the minimum amount of money that she should be receiving. Not only does she deserve more money for what he put her through, Julian also deserves more; he couldn't control who's his father!"

"Paul, I know but you can't do anything about it. You've offered her money, she won't take it and you no longer have any control of John, you lost that when he started dating Yoko. I'm sorry, but the best way that you could help them is continue to be the uncle you are to Julian."

"Yeah, I suppose…"

Before he could continue the younger two girls begin to scream, "owl… hoo hoo, owl!" Both parents looked to their little girls and began to reassure them that there were no such birds in their home, or probably for at least a few miles. Heather, the older girl, re-entered the room and looked at her parents and her screaming siblings before looking to the window at which her sisters were pointing.

"Mum, dad there's an owl at the window."

"Not you too, Heather!" Paul said with a look of complete defeat in his eyes. He then glanced out the window, only to find an owl. "Oh look there really is an owl at the window, opps."

"Stella, Mary mommy and daddy are very sorry for doubting the two of you" Linda said to the two young girls before looking to her husband who was currently reading the letter that the owl had brought.

He finished reading and looked back up to his wife, longing in his eyes but otherwise a serious expression occupying his face. She looked back at him with confusion filling her face, not sure of what to say. He handed the letter to her before telling her that he would be taking the younger two girls to bed and they could talk when he returned. She read as her husband picked up the youngest girl and took the hand of the other and walked them off to their rooms.

About half an hour later he returned, having put both girls to bed after reading them a story and having them brush their teeth and their hair. He looked to his wife who was sitting on the love seat with the letter in her hand and an unreadable expression on her face.

"So, Paul, what do you think?" she said starting the conversation.

"Well, I'd really like to go but there are a few problems. What do you think?"

"I'd like to see your old school, but I feel like we'd be intruding on Heather's first year."

"That was the first problem that entered my mind, but we can check with her to see if she shares that feeling. The second thing was that Mary and Stella would have to be watched very closely in such a large castle and I'd be very worried about them. The last worry is the fact that I have no idea who I'll be preforming with, what their skill levels are, what songs they know, or if we'll be able to get along."

"The last is one that can be hurdled when you reach it. I can watch Mary and Stella, so that's no problem. Where's Heather so we can ask her about our intrusion on her first year? And before we do that, with all these hurdles cleared, will you want to go?"

"I sincerely do want to go and I think she's in her room."

The two parents walked to their eldest daughter's room and talked to her about them going to school with her so that her father could provide entertainment for the students there. The young girl had no problem about her family coming with her; in fact she was ecstatic and hoped that their presence would help with any homesickness that would have arisen normally. They walked back to the living room with an excited air over them, ready to tell the headmaster that Paul would, indeed, be playing at the school and his family would be coming with him.

Paul picked up a sheet of stationary paper and wrote back to Dumbledore, informing him of all of the important information they had decided upon that night. He then sent the letter off with the same owl that had caused a small ruckus with his daughters, watching it as it flew off into the night. He and Linda then went off to bed, waiting until the next day to pack their bags for the long trip.

* * *

A man with dark, greasy short hair and a short beard was sitting on a bed, alone, looking at pictures of a fairly large and happy family. He smiled sadly as he put the picture down and picked up one of four young men in matching suits. He closely examined each of their faces, looking for any trace of unhappiness that he knew was evident in the later pictures of the same men. He then told himself that they weren't men, not then, they were only boys who didn't know anything about life and unfortunately they would all become men in the worst ways ever. They were so happy, _he_ was so happy, and the poor boys in the picture had no idea that in a mere four, or so, years that would be on the brink of loathing each other. He turned his blue eyes back towards the picture of the family resting them on the woman in the picture, who was obviously the wife and mother. He still couldn't believe that he had made her unhappy enough to cheat on him, and with his closest friend of all people. He angrily threw both pictures down onto the bed before getting up, lighting a cigarette and walking out to his kitchen.

As he entered his kitchen he jumped a foot in the air because there was an owl sitting on his table. After recovering from the initial shock of the owl he walked over to the table and sat down in the seat in front of the bird. He examined the bird for a few moments before taking the letter from its leg and reading it slowly. His face perked up as he got further into the letter and he realized that this was exactly what he was hoping for. He ran back to his bedroom and fished out a pen and paper to write a reply to his old headmaster. It wasn't the nicest paper out there but he knew it would do. He informed Dumbledore of the conditions that he had with his wife over their children, and told him that he would gladly take the train with the students. After sending the letter off with the owl he was thrown back into his lonely state with nothing better to do but drink. He drank himself back into slumber, though this time his mind was filled with much happier thoughts.

* * *

The Victorian-era table toppled over as the man sleeping on it fell to the floor. He internally cursed himself for falling asleep on the table once again; he had been doing this almost every day since she left him. He had just stopped this habit and here he was starting it again. He looked around for the source of his waking, and the toppling table, and noticed a letter on the floor. Not entirely sure how it ended up there he picked it up. Written in slanted writing on the front was: _George Harrison, Friar Park Henley-on-Thames, URGENT_. He didn't understand who it was from, why it was so urgent, and how it had ended up on the floor of his kitchen next to his fallen table and body. Glancing around the room he noticed that there was an owl sitting contently by the window, he supposed that the letter had been brought by the owl. He paced over to the owl and looked at it with a raised eyebrow before going back to the overturned table.

He picked the table up, along with the long fallen chair, and sat down with the letter in his hand. He took a few moments to read the letter and the sides of his lips went upward as he finished reading. He couldn't believe the opportunity that had just presented itself to him; what better way to forget his troubles than to play music to children? He couldn't think of any, so he went to his "office" and picked out the first stationary he came across before sitting at the desk to inform the headmaster that he would be attending. He also informed him that would be taking the student train for old times' sake and not to contact him back because he would be staying in London until the train left. He sent the letter off with the owl and marched triumphantly back to his own room, ready for the next adventure of his life and thinking of nothing else.

* * *

The old man was sitting in his office on August 25, 1974 having just received the last of the four men's replies; it was a yes! In fact, they were all yeses and they were all also arriving by the train. Unfortunately these answers, while exactly what he was hoping for, made a problem arise and he could now do nothing to stop it. All he could do now was pray, and hope, that John, Paul, George, and Ringo would not run into each other until his plan to make them, at least, get along was complete and in action. No matter what, though, they were now stuck in this plan for better or for worst; they all were.

_**AN: Well I guess I finished the re-write of the first chapter, I think it's a lot better than the original. Not just the paragraph form but also the content. So please RandR and I'll try to have the re-written second chapter up in the next few days.**_


	2. King's Cross Here We Come, Pt 1

_**Re-write of Chapter 2! Again, I own nothing in this story, yet, because Harry Potter belongs to Jo and The Beatles belong to John, Paul, George, and Ringo and I don't think that my name is any of them so I must not own anything. So, here it is: Chapter 2! **_

**Chapter 2: King's Cross, Here We Come Pt. One George and John**

George Harrison was packing. No, packing would be an understatement; he was collecting every belonging he could ever even possibly _want,_ let alone need, in the course of about nine months and throwing them into open suitcases. He had put off _packing_ for about four days but needed to do it today because, not only had he planned to have been in London already but the train was leaving the next day, September 1, and there was no way it would come back for him.

He stopped throwing things in his suitcase when he realized that bringing any more would do nothing but harm. He collected the two suitcases he had filled, the two guitars he was bringing, and one of his ukuleles before heading to his black 1974 BMW 3.0 CS. As he was putting his bags in the boot his brother, Harry, who also happened to be one of his gardeners walked up to him, along with the head gardener, Maurice.

"George, where the hell are you going with all this shit?" Harry asked him with a disgusted look on his face.

"Oh, hey Harry, Maurice, I'm going to Hogwarts to play music. Didn't I tell you?" George told his brother and Maurice with a puzzled look.

"No, George" Maurice answered "you haven't even been outside in days."

"Sorry, I suppose I was just, uh, getting things done."

"By the way, little brother, you're hair looks like a dead raccoon lives there. If I were you, I'd get that curly mop cut before I went anywhere."

"But, Harry, I like my moustache." George told his brother with a way that made it seem like his reasoning should be obvious.

"Then keep the moustache, boy, but cut your god-damned hair!" his brother yelled with frustration.

"I suppose I could do that." George mumbled, now well aware of how dumb he had sounded. "Maurice, watch out for the house while I'm gone and make sure that no _kids_ do anything to it. That and, of course, tend to the gardens and make sure that everyone else is doing _their _jobs" he projected towards Maurice.

With one final glance back, and a silent goodbye to Friar Park and Sir Frankie, George Harrison entered his BMW and drove towards London. The ride was mostly uneventful, until he was only about ten minutes outside of London and he pulled up to, what appeared to be, a shabby but nice barber shop.

Inside the barber shop, Bob's as it was called, a young woman, who must've been the assistant, was having a conversation with an older man, who can only be assumed to be Bob.

"Wow, Flo, we've got ourselves a nice one today. That's a BMW out there, it's a nice car, and expensive, not just anybody has one." 'Bob' said to the woman.

"Oh, Bob, do you think it's someone famous? An American maybe? I hope so!" Flo giggled.

"Flo, it's not a famous American. No famous American, in their right mind, would drive themselves around in England; they'd get driven around."

"Bob! Bob, he's getting out of the car. Oh my God, Bob, it's the ex-Beatle, George Harrison! Bob I can't believe it, a Beatle in ou- er, your shop!"

"Yes, Flo, I know he's an ex-Beatle; what I don't know is why he'd come to such a run-down place when he could easily afford the best hair stylists in the world without any worry."

"Why does it matter? He was a Beatle and now he's here, I could scream!" Flo said, before going on and screaming like she said she would.

Bob sent her death glares as the famous George Harrison entered the barber shop. He looked around, before ultimately deciding that it was good enough for him and sitting down on one of the styling chairs.

"Wait," the young man started, "you accept walk-ins, right? If not I'll just leave, it's fine."

"Of course we do, son, what barber in their right mind wouldn't? What would you like done?" Bob said while smiling at George Harrison.

"Well, I'll have that pretty lass" he said with a point and wink at Flo, "cut my hair like it was in the Beatle days. I just need it off and that's the only short style that I look good in even if people are more prone to recognize me."

"So, er-sir, how long do you, er-want your eh-mop top?" Flo asked with a slight stutter.

"First off, it's George not sir. Second I suppose about the length I had it in 1965, you know it?"

"Yes, I was always a fan, I remember it well," she told him, glad that he treated her as a human being even though he was famous and she was merely an assistant at a shabby barber shop outside of London.

Flo began to cut George's hair. They sat in almost complete silence, almost complete because George was humming softly, as she worked her way through his curls. Eventually she finished and turned him towards the mirror to see his "Not-so" new haircut. He grinned at his reflection, showing the approval and then turned back to Flo and Bob.

"So, how much for the cut?" he asked with a tone that stated he would settle for no less than twenty pounds.

"I'd take dirty den I think" Bob answered with a slight laugh.

"You could be taking ten pounds but I think I'll give you thirty." George said before giving Bob three "5" pound notes and handing another three to Flo and leaving the shop.

Both Bob and Flo stared at the Beatle, or rather where the Beatle once stood, until long after he was gone when the next customer came in.

_New York, JFK airport_

John Lennon and his wife were walking to the terminal with a guitar each, though both were John's he insisted that they carry them on and he wouldn't carry both for fear of "looking like a goddamned roadie". They had already checked the majority of their bags; they had five each, and were now only waiting for the plane to load. John was pacing and speaking, presumably to Yoko, about his fears of the near-future.

"What happens if the plane crashes? What if we miss the train to the school, what would we do then? What if Julian is so pissed at me for what I've done that he ignores me the whole year? I shouldn't have even ever considered going back to my old school" John worried aloud.

"John, everything will be fine and even if Jul is mad at you; you'll still have me and he has his mom." Yoko reassured her husband.

"I know, luv, but I don't want my son to hate me even though I have you and he has her. I _want_ him too." John sighed.

The first class was then called to board and the couple went to the terminal and entered the plane. Looking at their tickets the couple realized that they were actually sitting rows apart from each other.

"I'm sure that one of the people sitting next to you, or I, will trade seats so we can sit together." Yoko told her husband.

"Yoko, I AM A GODDAMED BIG BOY AND I CAN FUCKING TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!" John screamed at his wife, starling the entire first class, and half of business, and attracting the attention of the flight attendant; who promptly came over and told him, politely, to sit down.

Yoko also sat down, realizing that John wanted to be self-sufficient. They both spent the entire flight in a bad mood, neither even accepting the food that was offered to them many times by the flight attendants. The plane landed, but only after hours of John and Yoko pouting. Once they were allowed to exit the plane the couple continued to avoid each other until they had collected their bags and were outside of Heathrow.

"John, I was just thinking…" Yoko started.

"Yes, luv?" John asked, forgetting the fight and looking lovingly at his wife.

"If we're going to make a baby you're going to have to cut your hair."

"I thought you liked my hair!"

"I used too, but I don't anymore." Yoko told him sadistically.

"I suppose I can get it cut, but it's getting cut the way I want it cut!" John said, trying to defend his manliness.

As the couple spoke, because there was no yelling involved it couldn't really be considered an argument, a black BMW parked next to them. After they finished they looked at it, both with perplexed looks on their faces. As usual John spoke first.

"Who are you? What do you want? If you're the fucking paparazzi you better just piss off right now, I don't want to deal with it" he said to the black car, considering that he couldn't see who the driver was.

The driver leaned over to the passenger side and rolled the window down, before waving at John and even at Yoko.

"Hey John, I was just driving by and I saw you and Yoko arguing so I decided to come back around and offer you two a ride." George said as he grinned at his old friend.

"Georgie, baby, you got your hair cut! You look like a Beatle!"

"Now, John, I was a Beatle so I can look like one if I wish. Why are you two in England? I thought that Yoko vowed to never come back here."

"I want to see my son, is that a crime?" John asked a look of innocence coming onto his face.

"No, but I still don't really believe you…"

Cars began to beep at George. George seemed ready to move but John had to flip a few of them off first. As he held his finger up to a particularly nasty older driver he and Yoko loaded their bags, and his guitars, into the boot. They noticed that their bags weren't alone; George also had two bags and guitars in there as well. They both entered the car; both sitting in the back despite the empty seat next to George.

"So, Hari, why the new haircut?" John asked George as they drove away from the airport.

"My brother told me my hair was out of control, and I decided I needed something new anyway. Why are you in England, John, and with about ten bags as well?" George responded.

"Oh, sexy Georgie Harrison; with his new hair he'll be reeling in the babes before we know it!" John said, attempting to curve the conversation away from his appearance in England.

"Well that's great, I need some good loving! I haven't had any loving, whatsoever, since the goddamned incident." George said, regret running across his face as he approached his most dreaded topic.

"Yeah, I heard about that" John said with a small grin, pleased that he had redirected the conversation, "Richie told me. Far as I can see he's not that mad. He told me that Mo wasn't entirely happy with their marriage anymore, so I suppose that he was happy that she cheated with you and not some random bloke on the street. He also sympathizes with you, George; you had just had the same thing happen to you, so you decided, probably subconsciously, to do it to someone else. Guess we'll, or rather you two will, just have to jump that hurdle in your friendship like every other one, and like you and Eric did."

"Yeah, I s'pose but why wasn't it like this the first time? You all had girlfriends that I could have easily attempted to get, possibly even succeeding considering one of them _was_ Mo and the Jane cheated on Paul all of the time anyway."

"So first off, she ran away and you still don't know where she is. So you had no way to make her jealous, that's the definite reason. Second, and I'm not as sure about this one, you loved her more. I think that, even when you were with Patti, you wanted her to come back to you; not only wanted but hoped." John said a sad grin on his face before adding, with a huge smile, "And driver, luv, where are you going? I didn't tell you where I wanted to be driven, now did I?"

"Dammit, John! I've been driving back towards Henley! Where do you want to go?"

"To get my hair cut, Yoko's been bitching about it for the whole day now."

"Then this route is prefect! I'll just take you to the place I got mine cut this morning, it's right down this road." George said turning onto the street that Bob's was located.

"George, why do you have two bags and two guitars in the boot?" John asked bringing up the dreaded subject hanging in the air.

"I'll tell you, John… Once you tell me why you and Yoko are in England." George answered with a devious smile.

"Yoko and I are here so that I can play music at Hogwarts and teach the kiddies how to play music, as well."

George laughed and looked in his rearview mirror at John. "John, that's why my bags and guitars are in the boot, too!"

"Because I'm playing at Hogwarts? George that doesn't make a lick of sense." John told his old friend with raised eyebrows.

"Well, I mean because I'm playing there too! Isn't that amazing?"

"It sure is. I mean John Lennon and George Harrison playing together again, wow! I thought I was going to have to deal with some random amateur musicians, nice to know that even if the other two are shit we'll have each other!"

The two Beatles, and Yoko, pulled up to Bob's and got out of the car. George entered first, waving to Flo, first, and then to Bob. Both gazed at him, stupidly, wondering why the Beatle had come back to their shabby little shop when he had just gotten his hair cut hours ago.

"Hey Bob, hey Flo I was just wondering if you could, possibly cut my friend, John's, hair?" George said moving to the left and revealing John and Yoko behind him.

"Of course we can" Bob replied looking at Flo, who seemed to be convulsing, "I suppose I'll take care of this one."

John sat down on the chair and looked at his hair in the mirror. He looked up to George and then to Yoko.

"I want it like George's, kind of, just with a bit more of a flip and a tad shorter" he said to Bob before looking back to George and adding, "If that's alright, of course."

"It's fine, just please don't grow a moustache."

Bob cut John's hair and then admired his work in the mirror before looking to Flo and back to the boys.

"So, how much Bob?" John asked with a smile playing on his lips.

"Nada" Bob answered "your friend took care of it."

"George? You paid?"

"No, but when I got mine done I left a pretty hefty tip."

George than walked out of the shop and was followed shortly by John and Yoko. The three of them entered George's car and George started up the engine. He drove them back towards London and they were back in the city in less than ten minutes. George than suddenly dropped his hands to the bottom of the steering wheel and groaned.

"What?" John asked him with a worried tone in his voise.

"I didn't… Hotel… cash… damn."

"What, Geo babe?" John asked with concern.

"All of the goddamned good hotels in this damn city require stupid reservations now. And I don't even have any damn cash with me to pay my way past that."

John chuckled, only to be met with a death glare from George. "George, you can share our room, we reserved it over the phone as soon as we knew we were coming. It's a multi-bedroom so you could share."

"Hey, John, where exactly is this reservation?"

"Oh it's the Hilton across the street from King's Cross. Didn't I tell you that?"

"No, but it's alright especially because I'm really not in the mood to drive to Paul's and crash there."

The rest of the ride to the hotel was spent in silence. When they arrived George parked his car in the garage that was never checked and they all got their bags from the back. John pulled out his wand, showing George that he was bringing it and then quickly put it away suddenly remembering the wizarding code. The three entered the hotel and John got them checked in and the two room keys. As soon as they entered the room John and Yoko walked to their room and passed out. George went into his own room and laid on the bed before getting up again and turning on the television. He lied back down and started thinking about love again, and especially about her.

She wouldn't leave his mind and he couldn't fathom the ways his life could have been different if she had stayed. First, he determined that this whole Patti shit wouldn't have happened; in fact Eric could have had her from the start. Second, he wouldn't have cheated with Mo because there would've been no reason too so Richie wouldn't be drinking and drugging himself so heavily. He often wished that she hadn't left and today he did so, the only bad thing that could've happened was his religious renewal. He was almost positive that if she had stayed than he wouldn't have gotten so involved in religion; something he wasn't going to give up. In the end, he realized, that nothing matter either way because he couldn't change the past. With those thoughts lingering in his mind he fell asleep.

The next day George Harrison was the first one in the hotel suite up. He showered and got himself dressed for the day. He then let himself into his friend's room and right back out after seeing the couple in the bed naked. From outside the door he shouted to his friend.

"John! Yoko! Get up so that we don't miss the train. You two smell so you need to shower before we go and we need to get some breakfast. Just hurry up, alright."

Thankfully the lovebirds did listen to George and got a shower, together, and got dressed. They then packed up their bags, and guitars in the boys' cases, and went down to the in-hotel restaurant to get some breakfast. After breakfast John went to the desk and checked them out of the hotel. The trio than crossed the street and went into King's Cross station. They stopped right between platforms nine and ten.

"So, who wants to go first?" George asked with a small smile.

"You have to, George; Yoko's a Muggle so I'll have to bring her through the wall. Just go and wait by the train, we'll be right there." John said with an obnoxious smile added for good effect.

"Well than screw you, John Lennon" George said before walking straight through the column between platforms nine and ten.

John followed him, taking Yoko by his side so that he didn't lose her. They found themselves on platform 9 ¾, where the train had just arrived. The three entered the train and found a compartment near the back where they could be discrete and avoid, hopefully, the students. They proceeded to sit down and wait.


	3. King's Cross Here We Come, Pt 2

_**It's been forever again! Gosh… Well here's the re-write of Chapter 3 and I'm planning on doing Chapter 4 by the end of the weekend plus there's a possibility of a totally new chapter! Le gasp! Back onto the old stuff I don't own Harry Potter or The Beatles though I wish I did because I would have so much fun with that… hehe…**_

**Chapter 3: King's Cross Here We Come Part Two: Paul and Ringo**

"Linda, have you seen me bass!" Paul called to his wife as he rummaged through some dirty clothes.

"No, but I guarantee you it's not where you're currently looking!" she called back with a laugh.

"I suppose it would be stupid if I put it in with the dirty clothes," Paul said to no one in particular.

"Yes it would be," Linda grinned as she walked into the room with what appeared to be a enlarged violin case.

"You found my bass!" Paul cried.

"Yes, I found it in…"

"Where was it!" Paul asked interrupting Linda.

"In our bedroom at the foot of the bed," she said shaking her head at her husband's forgetfulness.

"Oh… I suppose I did leave it there then," Paul said as he furrowed his eyebrows before smiling and saying, "By the way I've finished packing and you can start with yours and the girls' things and I'll watch them".

"Heather's going to the cinema soon, so you just need to keep Mary and Stella occupied for a little while," Linda said as she pecked Paul on the cheek.

"No problem!" he said cockily.

Paul walked into the sitting room and found his younger daughters coloring by the television set as the eldest waited impatiently by the door. She hadn't inherited her patience from her mother; so often it annoyed Paul when she acted like that because it reminded him of the evil man that left his wife and daughter struggling in New York so that he could get cheap thrills.

"Dad," she sighed.

He really did love every time she called him that; he was getting everything that bastard threw away.

"Yes, Heather?" he asked smiling at the lovely girl.

"I'm going to the cinema as soon as Joann's dad gets here. They're throwing a type of going away party for me and I'll be back around ten. Mum already said that it'll be fine but I just wanted to tell you too," she told him sweetly.

"Yes your mother told me, it's fine. Have a good time".

"That's her dad beeping now, I'll see you when I get home," she said as she hugged Paul, before adding, to the direction of the noise, "Bye, Mar. Bye, Stel. I'll see you two tomorrow. Bye Mum, see you later!"

Paul smiled as Heather left the house and then went back to the sitting room to join Mary and Stella by the telly.

"So, girls, since it's just you two and me for about two hours, what do you want to do?" Paul asked already mentally preparing for the ideas, especially the ridiculous ones, which they would come up with.

Ideas floated around the room for the next half hour, some shouted and some whispered, some normal and some strange, some achievable and some flat out impossible but all well thought out; at least that's what the person who offered them thought. Eventually it was decided that Paul was to sing to the girls and play the piano for them. Paul had no real objections because music really was his passion and he loved sharing it with those whom he loved. He sat at the piano playing and singing for an hour before both girls were bored and decided that another activity needed to be taking place.

"Can we play barber shop?" Mary asked with a small smile.

"Of course, sweetie," Paul answered.

"Daddy, you'll be patient" Stella giggled.

"When you go to the barber it's not a patient, silly, it's a customer," Paul said laughing.

"Stella and me will cut your hair!" Mary exclaimed.

Paul resisted the urge to correct his daughter's grammar; after all she was only five and he, himself, usually didn't use proper grammar much so he just nodded and let it go. Mary ran off to find fake scissors but she could only find real ones so she grabbed them and decided to make do. She began to chop at Paul's hair as Stella sat by and giggled. His hair fell to the floor but he didn't notice, not even bothering to look because he thought that the scissors were a toy. Paul let Mary go on for fifteen minutes before telling the two girls to get ready for bed and he would be in to read them a story shortly and relaxing in the armchair by the fireplace.

Heather McCartney walked into her family's London home full of smiles and laughter but also sadness. She had seen an amazing movie with her best friends, all of whom she had known since she moved to England, but tomorrow she wouldn't see them all again until at least Christmas and she doubted even then. She was going to miss them all immensely but she also couldn't wait to see if her father's stories about Hogwarts were correct and, if they were, she couldn't wait to have as many adventures as he had.

Her father, the famous Paul McCartney, was sitting in an armchair in their sitting room as she entered the house. He looked up and as he saw her he gestured for her to enter and join him.

"How was the movie, Heather?" he asked as she came into the room.

"It was good," she started before gasping and exclaiming, "Dad, what happened to your hair!"

"What do you mean, Heather? My hair's fine," Paul said before touching his head and finding out that, really, it wasn't that "fine" at all.

With a scream Paul jumped towards a mirror and started to examine the damage as Heather went to find her mum. Paul's hair was a, literal, mess; there were random long strands with jagged edges and then no length at all. He had no idea what he was going to do with it; his perfect McCartney hair was ruined! Just as he was about to cry over his loss Linda walked into the room, with Heather, and gasped loudly at her husband's hair.

"Paul, what happened?" she questioned with concern in her voice.

"I let Mary and Stella play barber shop with me… and I ended up like this. I have no idea what to do! Please tell me that you finished packing!" he whined with a pleading manner.

"I did. And I might be able to fix it, but I might not," Linda told him as she bit the inside of her lip.

"What are you going to do?" Paul asked as he approached his wife.

"Cutitintoamoptop," she sped.

"What?" Paul asked.

"I'm going to cut it into the Beatle style. I'm sorry I just don't see anything else working," Linda said with concern.

"Do it. Just make my hair look better," Paul pleaded.

Linda grabbed the scissors from where Mary had left them and began to work on Paul's hair. She occasionally made different sounds and sighed but she kept on despite. She eventually sent Heather in to read to Stella and Mary since they wouldn't go to sleep without it and she and Paul were both currently occupied. After a half an hour she was finally done so she stepped back and admired her handiwork. She internally complimented herself because Paul's hair suddenly looked nice again.

"Okay, Paul," she said, "I'm done you can look".

Paul nervously got up and looked in the mirror. He smiled at himself before turning back to his wife and hugging her.

"I never thought that I'd want this hairstyle again but it's much better than the halfway chopped mullet. Thank you for fixing it Linda!" he gushed.

"No problem. We better get to bed, it's midnight and we all have a big day tomorrow," Linda said with pleasure that her husband was happy with her work on his hair.

The whole McCartney family was settled in bed and drifting to sleep as Ringo Starr was still packing at his house, and thinking aloud of course.

Ringo was finally throwing the last of his belongings into his trunk. He was hoping that Paul was still up at this hour because he really wasn't looking forward to spending the night alone. He missed Maureen a lot more than he originally had but he missed his three kids more.

"Scotland's a long way to travel," he said to no one in particular, "but at least I won't be alone when they're not here."

Ringo got into his car and drove to Paul's house, knocking on his door when he reached it. Paul opened the door only a minute later looking as though he had just fallen out of bed. He stared at Ringo for a minute before slurring something that Ringo couldn't understand.

"Paul I need to be at the station tomorrow in the morning and I'm not very good at waking myself up so I was wondering if I could stay here." Ringo pondered, looking down the whole time.

"Course you can," Paul said sleep still filling his eyes and words. "But why do you need to be at the station?"

"I've been asked to play at Hogwarts… and I've accepted," Ringo explained.

"Gosh, Rich, you should've told me earlier!" Paul exclaimed.

"Why?" Ringo questioned.

"Because I'm playing too! We can have matching haircuts!" Paul said excitedly.

"I'm not growing a mullet," Ringo said definitely.

"Rich come inside," Paul said.

Ringo came into the house with a look of confusion on his face, before he saw Paul's hair and his mouth turned itself into an o shape. He hadn't realized that Paul had cut his hair into a mop top once again.

"Alright, maybe we can have matching haircuts," he said with a laugh.

Paul went to the bathroom and retrieved the scissors that were used on his hair only hours ago, stopping to splash water on his face, before going back out to cut Ringo's hair. Paul cut with an air of perfection that suggested he had cut hair into a mop top before. He was done in no time and Ringo once again looked like a Beatle. Paul showed him to the guest room and the two parted for the night.

The next morning the entire house was awoken at eight o'clock sharp and they all got showered, dressed, ate breakfast and shuffled into the two cars. The cars stopped at Julian Lennon's house and they collected his belongings. They then went to the station and collected a trolley to get their things to the train. As they were walking some person called out Paul's name behind them.

"Great a fan," he murmured before saying, "come on, let's just keep moving."

"Paul, she's already seen you. Keep still, one fan won't kill you," Linda sighed.

The fan made her way closer until she was right in front of Paul. She smiled at him and looked him over before looking to the others he was with.

"I bet you don't even remember me," she said with a laugh.

Paul laughed as he realized that he did know her and said, "Actually, I do."

"It's been a long time since the breakup," she sighed.

"It sure has, Al," Paul grinned.

"You dated her!" Linda exclaimed.

"No, George did for a very long time; from when they were fifteen until she disappeared at nineteen" he said before turning to 'Al' and asking, "Why did you ever leave Allison?"

"I was pregnant," she muttered.

"So you're taking your, and Georgie's holy hell, kid?" Paul asked with a gasp.

"Yes and I teach at Hogwarts, I have since I quit university when I became pregnant," she said as breathed in deeply.

"So that boy coming over here now, that's your son?" Ringo asked.

"Yes, that's Jakob; he turned eleven on April fifth."

"He looks like him," Linda said, "George that is."

"Yes, he does, not a day goes by that I look at him and don't miss George," Allison sighed.

"So what subject does your mum teach?" Paul asked Jakob as kneeled down to talk to him.

"She's right there," he said, pointing, "why don't you just ask her?"

"Smartass like George too," Ringo laughed.

"So what do you teach," Paul asked pointedly.

"I usually teach Ancient Runes but this year I'm teaching defence," she said with a smile.

"Well Paul and I are performing for the students this year and presumably teaching them music; if they want to learn it," Ringo said proudly.

"That's lovely," Ally said before addressing the group, "How about we go through and get seats on the train?"

Everyone nodded and they made their way through the barrier in pairs of twos and threes before the whole party was at the station and loading the train. So far the two separated groups of Beatles hadn't collided but, really, how much longer could that last?


	4. Last Train to Scotland?

_It's been forever again... I'm so sorry! Again I own nothing but the OCs. And I will never claim to own them, except I will still dream and wish, haha just kidding. So here's Chapter 4, which will start off with the Beatles, and their company, entering their compartments._

**Chapter 4: Last train to... Scotland?**

Ringo, Morgan, Paul, Linda, Stella, and Mary started walking around the train looking for an empty compartment so they all could sit. As they were looking Morgan started explaining her absence to Paul, as he told her how George had reacted, and continued to act afterwards.

Morgan: So I got pregnant in 1962, while George and I were 19.

Paul: Obviously that was the year, it was the same year you left.

Morgan: Paul, shut up it's my story.

Ringo:*To Paul and Morgan on compartments* Last 5 were full, today hasn't been very lucky.

Morgan: So once I found out I was pregnant I talked to Brian.

Paul: Who told you to marry him?

Morgan: Yes, and I, personally, wasn't ready for marriage and I didn't think George would have been either. We weren't even 20! I had a horrible feeling about it, and then, only a few days later, seeing John's reaction to Cyn's pregnancy, it threw me over the edge. I had to leave for George's good, and at the time what I believed to be the baby's good. And, yes, sometimes I truly regret it; mostly because it stopped George from knowing Jake and Jake from knowing George, but normally I still see more pros in my decision than cons.

Ringo: Here's an empty one, let's get inside before someone steals it from under our noses.

Paul: Rich, with that big hooter, no one could ever steal anything from under your nose.

Ringo: Hilarious, Paul...

So they filed into the compartment, placing their bags on the racks above their heads. Stella immediately laid her head on Linda's lap and fell asleep while Mary looked excitedly out of the window, anxiously waiting for the departure of the train. Morgan and Paul continued their conversation with Ringo and Linda listening on.

Paul: What are the pros and the cons that you originally came up with?

Morgan: The pros were mostly selfish; someone to help raise the baby, provide money, make it easier for me to finish university, just someone to be with, and of course the man I loved being with me. The pros wouldn't even have worked out if he didn't want the baby.

Paul: I'm sure he would've wanted the baby, especially because it was with you. He loves you.

Morgan: Loved, Paul, not loves.

Paul: No, loves. Anyway the cons?

Morgan: Being forced into marriage, his possible reaction, his attitude possibly changing about me and the baby, the possibility of him cheating; which was fine when it was just me and him but it totally changes when a baby enters the picture, our love dying; much like John and Cyn's, him staying just because he felt obligated and if he didn't react that way; his prospect of being a successful musician dwindling and dying and his dreams being crushed.

Paul: Selfless reasons as far as I can see, but George was crushed, He had no idea why you left him, he thought you suspected him of cheating; I suppose while you were at university and he was in Liverpool. He thought maybe you had cheated and were too ashamed to tell him. He never suspected that you were pregnant, he thought that if you were you would definitely still be with him. His biggest suspicion was that your love for him had left, and you didn't have the heart to tell him so you just left.

Morgan: But I did love him.

Paul: But none of us knew that, except for Brian I suppose. Nice to finally know what the real secret he was hiding was, after all these years. So George started smoking more, sleeping around, taking more uppers; which eventually turned into more pot, LSD, and cocaine, drinking more, and partying more. I guess the whole method of his madness was to try to forget about you, or at least to forget about your leaving. I think that was part of his reasoning behind the strong meditations and the praying a million times a day, but I can't be sure about that part.

Morgan: This conversation made me a little depressed...

Paul: Haha I know, me too.

Ringo: That's a horrible bedtime story!

Paul:...No comment Richard.

Morgan: Well I'm going to nap a bit before we get there, and I suggest you all do the same, cos then there'll be a big feast to attend!

Jakob, Julian, and Heather trailed off from their parents, and uncles, to try to find a compartment with three seats open so that they could sit together without having to try and make too many new friends. They managed to find a compartment with 3 people already sitting in it but they decided that it was probably the closest to free so Heather, the most outgoing of the group, approached the 3 boys.

Heather: Excuse me, but are these three seats taken? If not may my friends and I sit with you?

The toughest looking boy: Er we're waiting for someone but it would be a great laugh if he comes to find us and sees that we gave his seat away!

The most sensitive looking boy: He wouldn't be happy, Siri. But then again it is his fault for being so late, we set a meeting time and he didn't show up. *to Heather * What year are you 3 in anyway?

Heather: We're 1st years.

The same boy: Well then, come sit. Our late friend will just need to find another compartment. I'm Remus, this boy on my right * the tough boy* is Sirius, and this kid on my left is Peter. We're all 4th years and we're also all in Gryffindor, as is our absent friend, James.

Heather: I'm Heather, and I hope to be in Gryffindor, as my whole family has been for ages. My father was, as was his brother, and both of his parents.

Sirius: Haha, she's the opposite of me, wanting to be like her family, I would have rather been dead than end up in _that _house!

Julian:* speaking for the first time* What house would that be?

Remus: Slytherin. His ENTIRE family, excluding him, was sorted into Slytherin. Now that you've spoken who are you?

Julian: Julian. I want to be a Gryffindor, like my dad and his best friends. I'm really scared that I'll end up in Slytherin because of some random thing in my mind that I can't see. I'm also afraid that I'll be isolated from everyone I know.

Peter: Don't worry, they give you want you want.

Heather: What do you mean? My father told me that the hat bases it of the interworkings of your mind, not your personal opinion.

Remus: Well that's the basis of it but if you really want to be somewhere and you urge it to put you there, you shouldn't have a problem. That's why James and Sirius think Peter's in Gryffindor, and they've worn off on Peter. I kind of think it's a load of crap though. I don't think it'll put you anywhere that you don't totally belong.

Jakob: That's confusing...

Remus: Well my, aren't you a mighty quiet lad?

Jakob: My mother says I inherit it from my father, I wouldn't know though.

Remus: We'll get to that complicated stuff later. Let's start with your name. Okay?

Jakob: My name is Jakob, but I normally go by Jake.

Remus: That's nice, I wish I could shorten my name without it sounding like a mode in the sleep pattern.

Sirius:*Singsong* Rem, Rem, Rapid eye movement, Rem.

Peter: Hahaha Sirius!

Remus: You're an idiot just shut up. So, Jake, what house would you like to be in?

Jake: I want to be a Gryffindor, like my mother. And apparently my father.

Peter: Why do you not know anything personal about your father? Did he die when you were young?

Remus: Peter, you don't ask kids that! Imagine how he feels now, if his father really is dead!

A dark, messy haired kid suddenly rushes into the compartment. He looks around and then rushes out again... Until he walks back in.

Sirius:*With a sly grin* Hi Jamesy poo.

James: Who the Hell are these kids and why is there not a seat for me?

Remus: They were looking for seats, and this compartment was the only one with a group of three. Sirius, Peter, and I assumed, since you were so very late, that your parents were going to take you up or that maybe you were hooking up with some random birds. So we gave them the seats.

Peter: Isn't that funny James!

James: No, it's not funny. Where the Hell am I supposed to sit now?

Sirius: Go find a seat you ass. These kids are sitting here now. See you at school! *Waves*

James: I hate you guys, you are all no longer invited to Lily and my wedding!

Remus: No one's invited to that, because it's never going to happen.

James: Yes it is, and when it does, YOU'RE NOT INVITED! *storms out*

Remus: So what were you saying, Jake?

Jake: Well just to let you guys know, my dad's alive, so I don't take offense from what Peter said. I've just never met him.

Remus: Oh, I'm sorry... I me

Sirius:*interrupting Remus* Don't worry kid, not knowing your dad is probably for the better. I wish I didn't know my dad, or my mom for that matter.

Remus: Sirius, not every parent is like your parent...

Jake: Mum left him...

Remus: That's odd, do mind if I ask why?

Jake: Cos she was pregnant.

Remus: Why's that a reason to leave though?

Jake: My father was becoming famous and my mother didn't want to ruin his chances and his band.

Julian: And she was probably afraid that he'd react the way my father did.

Jake: She said that was the final reason for her decision, sorry Jules.

Julian: No I get it. My father should have left then, it would have caused a lot less problems.

Remus: Did your father end up becoming famous?

Jake: Oh yeah, big time.

Sirius: Who is he?

Jake: George Harrison

Peter: The Beatle?

Jake: Yes

Remus: Then you're Julian Lennon and you're Heather McCartney?

Julian: Yeah that's me.

Heather: Yes that's my name.

Remus: Oh wow we've been sitting with The Beatles's children and we didn't even realize it.

Heather: I prefer it that way.

Sirius: I'm sure you do, I wouldn't like to be in a famous muggle family very much either.

Peter: Oh, guys I can see the school. We better get changed!

Now back to James, the dark, messy haired kid. He had a hard time finding a seat, but eventually he found a compartment. It only had one seat open. Three of the seats were taking by adults, all of whom James was paying no attention to. There were also two girls in the compartment, one, with dark brown hair, who James couldn't care less about and another, with dark auburn hair, with whom James was enamored with.

James: Hey Lily, guess what.

The auburn girl, or rather Lily: What? And if it's what I think it is, no.

James: Well what did you think it was?

Lily: Just go take your seat James, I don't want to go out with you.

James: Yes you do, and that's not what I was going to ask anyway. Though you know if you already have that on your mind.

Lily: I haven't missed you at all, James Potter! I wish that you would just go back and stay with those horrible friends of yours.

James: Well why you find Snivellous so you two can have another snogging session!

Lily: We're just friends, James, but I'd rather snog Severus than snog you.

James: I'm insulted, Lils. I'm so much more handsome than that rat.

Lily: I don't understand your flirting methods, if you really liked me you'd accept him.

James: Well...

Lily: What did you come to ask? Or did you really just want me to hate you more before school even starts again?

James: Oh I just wanted to know if I could sit here.

Lily: Go sit with your friends!

James: They ditched me, for a bunch of 1st years.

Lily: You deserve it.

James: So can I sit here?

Lily: Whatever, James, I really don't care. Just don't bug me.

James: Thank you, my love.

Lily: That counts as bugging.

James ignores Lily as he sits down next to her. He starts staring at the three adults sitting across from him. The woman, who appeared to be Asian, was making out with one of the men while the other man was madly staring out the window.

James:*To the adults* So who the Hell are you?

The staring man: Well I don't know, who are you?

James: I asked you first, but because I'm oh so nice I'm James Potter, 4th year, Gryffindor.

Man: Well I guess I'll tell you who we are because these two don't seem to want to separate *looking at the kissing couple* I'm George Harrison and that's John Lennon and the lump on his face is Yoko Ono.

James: HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS WERE IN THE BEATLES! My godfather was a Beatle It's Paul McCartney. My mother was his mother's little sister. But he was 18 when I was born and my parents adored him so they asked him to be my godfather, and he agreed. I see him a lot but no one ever believes me.

Lily: I still don't believe you, James.

George: Oh yeah I remember when his aunt asked him to do that. You share a first name with him too.

James: Yeah, my parent's kind of stole it. Because my mother loved it, but she told Paul's father and he didn't mind.

John:*finally separated from Yoko* Oh yeah I remember that. That was the spring before we went to Hamburg.

George: No shit, John...

John: You said there were 1st years in your friends compartment, what did they look like?

James: Um, the two boys both had dark brown eyes but one of them had light brown hair while the other had darker brown hair. The girl had blond hair and green eyes. They all seemed to be about the same height, but they were sitting down. That's all I remember, I was just really mad.

John: The girl sounds like Heather.

George: Yeah, what about the boys though?

John: Well Jules has light hair and dark eyes. Since the girl sounds like Heather it was probably him.

George: Who took him here? His mother?

John: I think so, I really didn't arrange anything with her. I just assumed she was bringing him.

George: Hmm what about the other boy?

John: I have no idea. James...

James had fallen asleep while John and George were speaking. Lily and her friend were talking about what a scumbag James was. John immediately went back to snogging Yoko, and George, with simply nothing better to do, began reading a book.

_It's getting so heated! Georgie's going to find out about his son soon! What will happen? Keep reading to find out and don't forget to review!_


End file.
